146. ‘O d’ardente vertute ornate et calda’

O noble soul decked out with burning virtue,

for whom I fill out so many pages:

O lone house still whole in its chastity,

strong tower founded on the highest worth:

O flame, O rose scattered on sweet layers

of living snow, in which I am reflected:

O delight whose wing lifts to a lovely face,

whose light shines brighter than the sun:

if my verse were understood so far away,

I’d fill farthest Thule, Bactria, Don and Nile,

Mount Atlas, and Gibraltar, with your name.

Since it can’t carry there to the four corners

of the world, let that lovely country hear it

the Apennines divide, and Alps and sea surround.